


In The Dark Of The Night

by dovingbird



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mistaken Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:26:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5239739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovingbird/pseuds/dovingbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sean does things that don't make a lot of sense sometimes, and one of those things is wondering if telepathic people really exist. And while he's busy thinking about Matt he becomes a little gayer than he's used to being, thinking about how amazing and sweet and kind and nice and intelligent he is, and really if there's anyone on the planet who's intelligent enough to be telepathic it's probably Matt.</p><p>That's probably the reason why Sean's next thoughts, tinged with fog and pink, are <i>If you can hear me, Matt, you should come fuck me.</i></p><p>~~</p><p>Sean's a bit of an overstimulated anxious wreck at Lawrence and Joel's housewarming party. Matt's a sweet enough boyfriend to hide him away in Lawrence and Joel's bedroom so he can doze. Alcohol, darkness, and confusion all mix, and mistaken identities ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Dark Of The Night

**Author's Note:**

> **NOTE #1:** This fic is **dub con** not only because of mistaken identities but also because of sex after excessive alcohol consumption.
> 
>  **NOTE #2:** This is a two-parter, and everything will end safely and consensually with all four parties involved.

If there's one thing that Sean doesn't react well to, it's being absolutely drunk off his ass at parties. Drinking? Fantastic. He loves it. Drinking to make content in the office? That's cool too. He trusts everyone he works with, and even when things get a little tense he knows they'll all get out of it and leave the office as friends.  
  
Parties, though, with the low lights and the loud music and the constant revolving door of people he only knows vaguely through the hosts? Not a good time.  
  
This is one of those parties, and even through the distant fog of his head Sean can trace his mistakes. One, he had a beer at home while he waited for Matt to finish up a few emails before they headed to Lawrence and Joel's housewarming party. Two, Matt liked to be punctual to everything, which meant that he and Sean arrived right on time, if not early, so that he was just nervous enough that a grinning Joel could coax him into a fast mixed drink or two.  
  
Three, the shots he can't really keep track of, but he's damn sure they happened.  
  
He's squeezed a little too tight on a couch made for three between James and two of Lawrence's old friends from Texas that are visiting, and it's...he doesn't really know how he feels. A little squirmy and oversensitive. Keen to crawl into a lap and let someone hold him until the music stops thudding in the next room, but James, he's leaning forward in intense Mario Kart concentration, and Sean isn't quite lonely enough to crawl into a total stranger's lap.  
  
Not yet.  
  
Matt's hoodie sleeves drape over Sean's shoulders and he sits a little taller just in time for Matt to rest his chin on top of his hat. "How're you doing?" Matt asks, and even the vibrations from his words are almost too much.  
  
Sean shivers, wrapping himself up a little tighter in his hoodie. "I just, no, I- what!" He immediately runs his character into a wall and whines.  
  
"Great job, Spoole!" James sings out as he laps him.  
  
"'S n-not my fault, Matt, he-"  
  
"We all know about your giant boner for your boyfriend, geez." James clicks his tongue, then pitches his voice higher. "Matt and I finally kissed! Our four month anniversary is Thursday! Matt _really_ likes it when I wear the hat he bought me!"  
  
There's a long moment of consideration, and then Sean drops his controller. "Wait, you're making fun of me!"  
  
"Wow, Spoole!"  
  
Matt laughs, low and warm, and gently pushes James's head so he's flopping over just enough to lose his lead and complain. And then Matt drops his voice as he leans down so he's hovering near Sean's ear. "Wanna go lay down? Go crash in the bedroom?"  
  
It's a sweet offer - Matt knows how overstimulation can be for him - but Sean whines anyway. "I don't wanna lay in Larr's kinky bed!"  
  
"Wow." Matt kisses the top of his head, then gently nudges him to his feet. "C'mon, Sean. It's loud out here."  
  
He's not wrong, but that doesn't mean Sean's not pouting as Matt guides him around the couch.  
  
They run into Joel, who's making drinks and entertaining the group around him with very loud and obscene jokes. "Joel, hey," Matt says, snagging Sean by a beltloop as he sways. "Okay if Sean lays down a bit? He's a little-"  
  
"Dude, absolutely." Joel's already handing off a drink and excusing himself with a hand wave as he walks toward them. "Your little lightweight boytoy-"  
  
"Hey!" Sean cries.  
  
"Shut up, Spoole." Joel blows him a kiss and Sean makes a face. "C'mon, I'll show you where the bedroom is."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
It's a dizzying long walk down the hall, especially with Joel and Matt absently chatting as they go and Sean unable to follow along with the conversation, too distracted by how warm he is in his hoodie and the sweetness of Joel's cologne in the air. He sags against Matt, who doesn't miss a beat and simply loops an arm around his waist. He's still not quite used to being able to lean on Matt whenever he wants, and he hums in contentment, is rewarded with a fond little smile up at him.  
  
It's weird to be led into Lawrence and Joel's bedroom. Suddenly he can smell both of them, and it's playing havoc with his mind, especially with all his cells buzzing under his skin like this. "Here you go," Joel says as he ushers Sean in, a hand on his and Matt's arms both.  
  
"Thanks," Matt says again.  
  
They guide Sean onto the bed and he makes a noise. "Stay."  
  
"Sean-"  
  
"Staaaaaay, Matt!"  
  
He breathes a quiet laugh and leans to kiss his forehead in the almost pitch black darkness as Joel coos. "They're cute when they're drunk, aren't they?"  
  
"Yours too?" Matt asks.  
  
"I mean, loud and opinionated and generally bothered, but sure, yeah, cute too," Joel says with an audible grin. "Speak of the devil, haven't seen him in a minute. Gonna get back to the party. You good?"  
  
"Yeah, fine, thanks."  
  
"Cool."  
  
Joel disappears, though his cologne is still heavy and a little intoxicating in the room, and Sean huffs. Matt's there and ready to respond. "Just snooze a little."  
  
"Not tired."  
  
"Okay," Matt says as he removes Sean's hat. "But you'll feel better if you do."  
  
The annoying thing is that Matt is right, as usual. Sean wiggles out of his hoodie with low grunts. "It's hot."  
  
"Sorry." Matt squeezes his shoulder after Sean pulls off his shirt too. "Listen, just lay down for a little while, okay? I'll come get you soon."  
  
"Mmnnn." He lays facefirst in the pillows to pout.  
  
"Okay," Matt says again with a quiet laugh, and then he's shutting the bedroom door.  
  
Sean's not really sure how long he just lays there, breathing stale air into the pillows, but it's hot. He wasn't kidding about that. He wriggles out of his shoes and jeans and kicks them all off the bed, probably ruining the pristine wrinkleless sheets. Joel's gonna kill him for that, isn't he?  
  
And he means to doze. He really does. But the fact remains that this entire room is just so... _them_. So Lawrence and Joel. They've barely been in this house for a week and yet it's like they've been there a year. The pillows smell like their shampoo. The room smells like their cologne. He curls his fingers into the sheets with a little murmur, feels the familiar trail of tingles down his spine.  
  
First he's wondering when Matt's gonna come back. Then he's thinking _about_ Matt and groaning again, shifting on the mattress. Thinking about going home with him. Thinking about...God, where _is_ Matt? Why isn't he here with Sean?  
  
Sean does things that don't make a lot of sense sometimes, and one of those things is wondering if telepathic people really exist. And while he's busy thinking about Matt he becomes a little gayer than he's used to being, thinking about how amazing and sweet and kind and nice and intelligent he is, and really if there's anyone on the planet who's intelligent enough to be telepathic it's probably Matt.  
  
That's probably the reason why Sean's next thoughts, tinged with fog and pink, are _If you can hear me, Matt, you should come fuck me_.  
  
He buries his face a little deeper in the pillows, sloppily laying his arm over the top of his head. Can't help but wiggle his hips a little trying to get comfortable, and then hum and roll them just a little slower. He's...not sure what he's doing, but it...fuck, it feels good, it-  
  
The sound of the music swells for a moment before it drops off again, but he doesn't give a shit, is busy pressing deeper into the mattress, feeling himself hardening in his boxers. It's when the mattress bends at the corner that he gasps, jolts in the pitch blackness, turning his head, but he can't see a damn thing when a hand suddenly presses warm to the back of his neck, when lips touch his jawline.  
  
Holy shit, Matt's telepathic, it's fucking official.  
  
He gives a soft moan when Matt straddles his hips, his other hand touching the overheated slope of his waist. "I-"  
  
"Shh." The lips curve against his cheek.  
  
"But..." Sean whispers.  
  
"Shh," he whispers right back, all air and no tone, fingers running down his side until both hands are tight around his waist. "They'll hear."  
  
Fuck, he's right. He drops his head and groans in protest, but it's muffled in the pillows, barely even sounds like himself. Lips find his neck now, warm and slick, all teasing and no gratification.  
  
Sean bucks his hips backward, feeling ornery, absolutely no patience for teasing, and there's a warm chuckle, just breath against the column of his spine. Matt's an asshole. A _complete_ asshole.  
  
An asshole who's running his hands all over Sean's skin, shit...the muscles in his neck strain painfully as he buries his face further, as he digs his fingers into the sheets and curls them into fists. There's a tongue running down the little bumps of his vertebrae, thumbs circling on his skin, everything loose and fiery.  
  
He can't take it.  
  
Sean whimpers as he rolls his hips again, pressing back square against where he feels Matt already hard as nails, and suddenly he's desperate, arching to reach behind him and grab his beltloop and pull him down to grind into his ass. He's rewarded by a low groan that sounds like it's punched out of Matt, by a hand pressing almost painfully into his neck and another on his hip holding him firm against the bed. He's not going anywhere unless Matt wants him to. The mere thought sends goosebumps prickling down his body.  
  
The hand on his waist shifts, a single finger drawing teasingly over his ass, and when it presses against his hole through the fabric he shudders all over, turns his head just enough to whisper "Please-"  
  
"Shh."  
  
A drawer on the nightstand opens quietly, objects rolling around inside, and Sean is already sweating against the sheets, panting, listening to Matt fumble around the drawer. It's not the first time they've fucked. Doing it in Lawrence and Joel's bed, though, with their lube and their condoms, that's fucking sinful. He _loves_ it. Can't think of anything better than ruining their bed. God knows they've done enough fucking with Sean in the past.  
  
He hears a container open, then feels his boxers yanked down his legs, the slide of the fabric almost painful against his oversensitized skin before they're tossed across the room, and the second a slick finger is working its way inside of him he groans.  
  
"Bite the pillow," he whispers to Sean.  
  
He doesn't fucking know why - the music out there is probably loud enough that no one will hear a thing - but something inside of him yields immediately, makes him grab the pillow with both hands, squeezing it as he lets out shivering breaths. He's gratified by the pressure against his cock, imagines how he's leaving a damp spot on the sheets with his precum, and even though Matt works two fingers into him way quicker than he ever has before the discomfort is worth it, worth Matt fucking him that much faster.  
  
They don't have a lot of time, Sean thinks with a sudden swell of panic, what if someone spill something on Joel and he needs to get a new shirt? What if Lawrence needed to charge his cell phone? He presses back against Matt's fingers - _fuck_ , they're thicker than Sean's ever noticed before, and he wonders for a moment at how the dark changes his perception of everything - and hears another breathy chuckle before they withdraw for only a moment before three are working inside of him, slicker than before.  
  
He wants to beg for his cock, wants to kiss him senseless, but fuck, he needs to be good or Matt'll never fuck him, and so he rolls his hips back against him, bites through the stretch, winces until he's settling again, until the fingers are leaving, until he hears the jingling of a belt and the unzipping of pants and a condom wrapper ripped open and the strange sound of a slick hand rubbing against latex.  
  
_Fuck, please, pleasepleaseplease-_  
  
Hands press his thighs wide open, fingers on one of them warm and slick against his skin, and then there's the slow beautiful fucking push of a cock inside of him.  
  
He full out whines, and when a hand squeezes tightly around the back of his neck he finally obeys, literally bites into the pillowcase, is rewarded by teeth digging into his shoulder, by the stretch of a cock as Matt immediately fucks into him harder than he's ever started before. God, that's- _fuck_ , he's not used to this, is more familiar with Matt treating him like he's gonna break if he gives into some sort of senseless passion, and he _loves_ this. It's so new. Is it the alcohol that's loosened Matt up? He distantly thinks he should get him buzzed way more often.  
  
Every part of this is so forbidden - fucking where he can hear people laughing and talking just down a hallway, fucking in his friends' bed, fucking like they're running out of time - that he's already leaking down his shaft, he can feel it. He's pathetic. The second there's a hand around his cock he's gonna last two seconds.  
  
But Matt's not much different, he can tell. He's already sounding a little labored, breathing heavily, fingers squeezing too tight around his hips. Was this a secret kink of his? Getting off where he's not supposed to? Shit, he's here for it. He'll let Matt fuck him anywhere as long as he's needy and hard like this.  
  
The hands shift, and suddenly arms are wrapping around his chest, pulling at him, and Sean scrambles to press his hands into the mattress and arch back. The second he gets his knees under him he's pulled back flush against his clothed chest, every thrust slapping their hips together obscenely, and there's - _fuck_ \- there's a hand around his cock, slick and hot and practically stripping his skin off.  
  
He hears Matt gasp - is he leaking that much precum? Isn't Matt used to it by now? - and his other arm locks around Sean's chest, holding him firm, holding him _right where he wants him_ , and that's heady enough that he grabs for Matt's forearm and squeezes it and whispers "I-I'm so close, ohmygod-"  
  
"Yeah," he whispers back, hot against his neck, and it's so fucking sexy having every part of him practically _owned_ like this that Sean cranes his neck, reaches for his face to try to kiss him, try to-  
  
...th-the skin under his hand isn't a beard, it's _smoo-_  
  
His shock bleeds into his orgasm, hard and painful, enough that he almost blacks out, that he only barely registers the fingers in his hair that suddenly twitch just as someone's coming inside of him, _who the fuck is fucking him?!_  
  
He's suddenly flat on his face, practically thrown on the mattress, and just as he twists onto his back the nightstand lamp turns on, and he's left staring into Lawrence's huge mortified eyes behind his glasses.  
  
"Holy sh-"  
  
"Fuc-"  
  
Sean drags himself back over the sheets until he's pressed painfully back against the headboard, rakes his eyes down to where Lawrence's cock is just hanging out of his pants with the condom still on, and he's - fuck, Sean's naked, and he's grabbing desperately for the sheet and covering himself up to his neck, shaking hard. "Oh my God you're not Matt."  
  
"No shit!" Lawrence spits. He seems to realize his state of dress, then, looking down, then turning his back to Sean as he works at the condom. "You're not Joel!"  
  
"What in the world were you-" Sean can't finish the sentence, is too busy trying to find exactly where his boxers flew. "Why were-"  
  
"Why were you in my fucking bed?!" Lawrence cries. " _Joel's_ bed! _Our bed!_ "  
  
"No, no, Joel, he, I was, he l-let me lay down, he-" It's all setting in suddenly, the familiarity with where the lube and condoms were, the speed with which he was fingered open, the harder pace, everything, and he covers his eyes. "Oh my God."  
  
"I can't- I-"  
  
"You didn't even ask who it was!" Sean squeaks. "You just! Lawrence!"  
  
"Look, I haven't seen Joel in a while, James said the last time he saw him was going to the bedroom, I-"  
  
"You just decided to fuck him? At your own party?!"  
  
"Listen," Lawrence suddenly snaps, whirling around, throwing the full condom, holy _shit_ , into the trash can by the bed, thankfully with his pants closed again. "I don't have to explain my goddamn sex habits with my boyfriend in my own damn house-"  
  
"You do when they involve me!" Sean snaps right back, dropping his hands to the bed in sudden frustration.  
  
They stare at each other for a long moment, both of them shaking, and then Lawrence is dragging his hands down his face. "Shit, we just fucked."  
  
Sean can feel the fingers pressing into his skin still. He can feel the teeth digging into his shoulder. He absently touches the still stinging place where...where _Lawrence's_ teeth had been on his skin, watches Lawrence's eyes follow his hand.  
  
"It was a mistake, Sean," Lawrence says, voice low but firm.  
  
He can't respond. He's feeling the sweat on his body grow cold.  
  
"It was...we didn't know, it's okay, it was just a misunderstanding-"  
  
"I wanted it, though, I-" he whispers.  
  
"No, it's okay, you wanted it because you thought I was Matt, I wanted it because I thought you were Joel, it's okay. We didn't...we didn't do anything wrong, we didn't-"  
  
"Did we cheat, Lawrence?"  
  
Silence. Lawrence stares into Sean's eyes, mouth a firm line, hands curled into fists by his side. He suddenly breaks the eye contact, jerks his head to the side, then wanders over to kneel down, to pluck Sean's boxers off the floor. "We didn't know. It's okay."  
  
Sean watches as Lawrence crosses the room again, as he sets the boxers right at his feet. Feels a little shiver when Lawrence locks eyes with him again. "We need to tell them."  
  
"Yeah, I know," he says softly.  
  
"I...I feel sick, Lawrence."  
  
"Hey." Lawrence reaches out for a moment and Sean snaps his eyes to his hand, watches Lawrence hesitate, watches his fingers curl back into a fist again that drops limply by his side. "Hey, it's okay. Just. Get dressed. I'll tell Peake you're not feeling well. He'll take you home."  
  
"I-I don't..." Sean flicks his eyes away. "...know i-if I can tell him, I-"  
  
"We'll talk to them together."  
  
"Tonight?"  
  
Lawrence leans over and catches Sean's eyes. "Do you _want_ to do it tonight?"  
  
He curls his toes. Wraps his arms around his legs, feels his shoulders grow cold as the sheet sags. "I don't know, I..."  
  
Lawrence's hands settle on his shoulders, and they're warm but he shivers anyway, is suddenly doubly conscious of the strength of his fingers. "We can do it tomorrow. After work."  
  
"Oh my God."  
  
"Hey, it's gonna be okay. It will."  
  
"They're gonna be so pissed."  
  
"We'll talk to them." And this time his voice is that solid brick that Sean only hears when Lawrence is laying the law down, when there's no arguing with him because nothing else in the world could be truer than what he's saying. "And we'll get them to understand."  
  
When Lawrence steps back into the hallway a few moments later Sean dresses clumsily, is vividly aware of the slickness of his asshole and the mark that just barely hides under the neck of his shirt, and he sits on the edge of the bed as he waits for Matt to come and claim him.  
  
Tries to figure out how he's gonna explain not just to his boyfriend, but his two coworkers and friends, that he was never exactly opposed to the idea of fucking Lawrence in the first place.


End file.
